


The Chesapeake Ripper Phantom of the Wolf-trap Opera

by UnknownMusing



Series: "Dust Dancing in the Sunlight" [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Based on the Phantom of the Opera, M/M, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 18:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17105666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownMusing/pseuds/UnknownMusing





	The Chesapeake Ripper Phantom of the Wolf-trap Opera

Footsteps echo of an antique polished floor, while a black cape raises up in the air as the wind coming through the old Wolf-trap Theatre’s shattered ornate windows - with stained glass depicting images of fallen angels; people screaming and death incarnate - as the man continues to work, the half-moon mask covering the scar on the right-hand side of his face.

Hannibal, breathes in - inhaling deeply scent of musty dust that clings to the Old Theatre’s seats; a hint of faint perfume or cologne and something else - like a presence had chosen to ascend into his Lair.

He walks up to where the large blood-red curtains, with the faded golden swirls on them and rips that look like claws of large Beast has tried to tear them down, are then comes to the wings of the of the Stage, seeing as he pulls back the curtain with one delicate hand covered by the white glove with his initials embellished on it.

A young man with curly brown hair, is sitting in the front row just looking around at what had once been a grand building in its prime and keeps on watching as other people, saying the man’s name as he watches with keen interest at this person…who has dared to step in his Lair then they turn, looking straight at the spot where he is behind the curtain.

The young man, looks at him with widened light hazel eyes and bringing up a finger to his lips, Hannibal quietly tells him  _“Shh, don’t tell them I’m here”_ in a silent communication between the two of them then the young man is being led away by another woman as he hears her says a name. 

_“Will, come on. This place is creepy.”_

_“I’m coming.”_

The young man, gives one last look as Hannibal, just keeps himself hidden in the curtain’s shadow - away from the sight of the other person, the female - then he is finally alone again, with his thoughts now thinking of the young man.

What he would be like to talk to? Be friends or something more with?

Could he  _Love_  again, after all the  _Events_  that had happened in his _Life?_

 

Only the _Stars_ could give him…an answer to that.

 

He had hint that…the young man  _“Will”_ would be back again to his Lair.

 

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

****

** Will’s P.O.V: **

 

I don’t know what has made me go back.

 

Maybe it had been the sight of the strange man with the white mask on his face; how he brought one delicate hand up to _“Shh”_ me as he hid behind the curtain and how something about him made me want to find out who was he; where had he come from and why did he stay in the old Opera House.

 

I come out of the memory of it, when I finally reach the back-stage door, after coming through the abandoned **_Rose Garden_** that I had once seen beautiful pictures of it in it's heyday and push the door open with some difficultly then slip inside the gap I've made, looking up at the stairs.

 

A light-bulb above my head, flickers off and on as it swings to and fro - like a swing - and begin to ascend into the back area, where the changing rooms; toliets and costumes are.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Hannibal, stares at his reflection in the makeup mirror and looks at himself then covers it with both his hands, trembling softly with tears filling his eyes then begins to cry softly.

 

It had been a long time since the accident that had occured here in the Opera House. If only he hadn't fought with Mischa and she would still be alive today.....safe in his arms, while they lived in small house on the outskirts of town.

 

He lowers his face, suddenly seeing caught in the mirror the reflection of the young man - **_Will_** \- making him whirl around in the chair, placing the mask back on then waits still sitting there, while the young man steps into his Dressing Room with caution and keeping his face lowered.

 

"I;m sorry. I heard crying.....from somewhere and...came to investigate it."

 

He says nothing, yet, instead takes in the details of the young man - he was skittish like a newborn faun getting used to the big world and sea blueish -green eyes widen slightly when he reaches up with a white gloved hand to tilt his chin up so he can see his face and finally he is revealed properly.

 

"Beautiful. Like Adonis in living form."

 

A heavy blush rises on the young man's cheeks and getting out of the makeup chair, Hannibal steps closer showing he is slightly talller with the young man only coming up to his chin then wipes his gloved thumb over soft, unkissable yet lips causing a soft gasp to come from ** _.....Will._**

****

He trails the thumb back and forth, watching silently as bottom lips quiver at the touch and eyelashes flutter then bringing his other hand snakes it around the young man's waist, pulling him flush against his chest that hands soon go to his chest for support.

 

Both look at each other - Maroon into sea blueish green - and cupping the young man's cheek, bends his head down soon covering those soft, unkissable lips tentively to test his reaction then pulls back, seeing how **_Will...._** is curious and so, bends once more.

 

The kiss soon becames bolder, with Hannibal changing postion each time and tilting his jaw up and down in way that soft moans escape from the young man's mouth then lifting him up, he carries him over to the chaise lounge still intact - not dusty, because he always cleaned it. - and lays him down.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

** Will's P.O.V: **

 

_"Beautiful. Like Adonis in living form."_

Those words....the Masked Man - Hannibal as he was called - had said to me, echo and re-echo in my head as I lay in his arms with my head on his muscular bare chest covered by a slightly downy of grey hair, while on the floor are both our clothes in a heap.

 

We only touched each-other - feeling our bodies to ascertain what we liked and didn't like - as I remember he forbid me from removing the half moon shaped mask that he wears on the right hand side of his face so had left it.

 

But, why was he....afraid of letting me not see what had happened to him?

 

Would he think...I would reject him harshly and abandon him to die in this place?

 

I lift my head to look down at him, staring at the white starkness of the half moon mask against his pale, normal skin and moving up slightly, place my lips against the cheek of it - feeling the coldness of it - then pull back, seeing he had been awake and watching me.

 

"Sorry, I....just.....want you to know. I won't leave you....if you show me why you hide your right side of your face....and reject you because of it. I.....don't abandon people, **_Hannibal......_** I care for them."  


I wait for him to reply, only for him to sit up and pull me into his lap then he reaches into a drawer getting out some Lube - which is thankfully in date - and uncaps it, followed by dipping his fingers in it.

 

"Can you promise me that, **_Will?_** Can you....promise to not abandon me, like....I was before by others?"

 

I manage to nod in reply to him, because soon fingers coated press inwards down below make me arch my back slightly then begins to slide them in and out, stretching and probing to prepare me.

 

Feeling my thighs quiver, indicating I'm going....to release, I grab his hand where it is to tell him that if he continues I'll....cum and he pulls his hand away, replacing it soon with his...cock....pushing it upwards and into me.

 

Both his hands hold my hips, until he is fully sheathed within me and feel a hand take hold of the back of head - sifting through my hair - then begins to move, undulating his hips up and down watching every expression I make.

 

His other hand rests on my back, while I gasp softly in the silence of his Dressing room and allow him to lay me down among the chaise lounge pillows, getting over me then pulls up slightly, still moving within me and increasing his thrusts jolting me up and down on it.

 

Never have I felt this way....and start to move my hips in sync with his then reach a hand up slowly, placing it on the mask noticing how he pulls back slightly like he is still afraid do let me and yet, instead does it himself.

 

Keeping the scarred side of his face to one side and bringing my hand up, I turn it by his chin so I can see his whole face then just stare at it - the indications he was badly scarred by fire and something sharp, while his right pupil is milky white and unseeing.

 

I pull him down, kissing him gently his forehead; eyelids; left cheek and finally his right cheek feeling him tremble softly against me when I do so then pull back, cupping both his cheeks with my hands.

 

"It's okay.....I don't hate it. Keep making **_love_** to me."

 

He covers me once more, getting over me and wrapping my legs around his waist then kiss him again, allowing the sensations of our **_Lovemaking_** to overwhelm the both of us.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

** PART 3  **

****

Hannibal watches his _"Sleeping Beauty"_ calmly sleeping in his arms and snuggle up close to him, while the both of them now lay under a large warm winter blanket then looks at his reflection in the mirror of him without the mask on.

 

The young man had said _“It's okay.....I don't hate it. Keep making **love** to Me." _and looking at his face in the mirror that is next to the wardrobe with the different costumes still hanging up in it, sees that maybe Will is right.

 

That when they are sharing time together he can allow himself to be human again, not one that hides his emotions behind the cold white half-moon mask made of fine china - a gift from Lady Murasaki, who had come from Japan to see his last performance before he retired.

 

He wonders where she is now. Was she still alive?

 

Had she gone back to Japan?

 

Or was she...dead?

 

Not like his darling, little Sister Mischa, who fact had disappeared and not died, after the most horrendous incident that had resulted in the scar on his face and almost his own life if hadn’t been for someone he was yet to thank for saving his life that Fateful night when all went horribly wrong.

 

Who still haunted his **_Mind Palace_** wandering through the many rooms within it.

 

 

 

He comes out of his thoughts, turning his gaze back to the young man and reaching up with one hand strokes a strand of still slightly damp hair from Will's forehead then gently tucks it behind the young man's ear. This makes Will, shift slightly in his sleep and yet, not wake then he lays his head down on the pillow softly smiling at the sight he sees.

 

Hannibal, would draw it and when the young man comes back again would give it as a gift to him to show what he now felt because the ice on his heart was finally melting then pulling the blanket more up around them both, allows sleep to overcome him.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

** Will’s P.O.V: **

 

Having to leave Hannibal, alone in Wolf-trap Opera House makes me sigh softly as he cups both my cheeks at the back entrance, kissing me breathlessly one more time then pulls back from me, smiling softly.

 

"You better go. You don't want your friends to start worrying about you." He says to me, making me kiss him this time and it becomes bolder, when I find I don't want to stop as he grips me tightly to me.

 

His hand sinks into my hair, gripping it tightly like he doesn’t want to let go of me and managing to pull back then smile softly at him, allowing him to kiss my knuckles lightly before I head to the iron-wrought gate. Opening it, hearing the hinges squealing slightly because of not being used for long time, look back at him one last time standing in the doorway of the back entrance to the Opera House in such a way it harks back to time when the Wolf-trap Opera had been the most popular place to and enjoy music with family, friends or even Lovers then step onto the main back alley road, closing it behind me and wave goodbye making him do the same.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Back in the dressing room, Hannibal goes over to the chaise lounge picking up warm winter blanket and bringing it to his nose inhales deeply the scent of their lovemaking and the young man’s scent combined on it then lowering it slightly, looks at himself in the makeup mirror remembering the words _“"Sorry, I....just.....want you to know. I won't leave you....if you show me why you hide your right side of your face....and reject you because of it. I.....don't abandon people, **Hannibal......** I care for them” _then placing the blanket back down on it, goes over to the writing desk where a small keyhole with letters below it _C.H.A.L – Count Hannibal Asvirkio Lecter_ -   are written on the wood in faded gold spidery writing then reaching for the piece of ribbon around his neck, takes it out of his shirt and looks at the small little key – tiny and with initials _C. M.Y.L – Countess Mischa Yulina Lecter_ – on it with the back saying “ _To my Big Brother, Hannbae. “_ the rest of the words too faded to read though.

 

Placing it in the keyhole, he takes a deep breath managing to calm his heart – which is starting to pound against his ribcage – and turns the key, hearing the series of clicks of the special locking mechanism begin to move after gathering dust ever since he had abandoned it after her disappearance at the sametime a faint strain of music from the small little music box which has come out of a drawer with a little figurine on top of it being held up by another figure as the little girl catches a snowflake spins round and round with the gentle lullaby.


End file.
